Just A Name
by starsareFALLING
Summary: Chapter three! The girl are working hard at cleaning up the house, but they put it on pause to play Doctor--in a completely innocent way, of course. Review? Not for me, for the characters. They want to get together; help them out!
1. Chapter 1

Basically, this is just a waste of time. I wrote it on a moment's notice and didn't put much thought into it, but I thought it turned out okay despite that.

And I know that She's the Man is pretty much dead by now, but that's never stopped me before, so here it is.

* * *

"Careful," Viola warned. "She's a biter."

Olivia began to laugh. Still using a gentle hand to stroke the tiny gray kitten, which almost took the gold as 'the cutest kitten she had ever seen in her life', she glanced up at the other girl. With an easy smile, she joked, "I know the type."

Trading the smile for a knowing look and a smirk, the brunette replied, "So, you've discovered Seb's fetish, huh?"

The blonde offered a grin. "Yeah, he's gotten me a few times." She smiled as the kitten turned from Viola to curl up in the small stretch of bed between the two girls' knees, purring away once they began to pet her again. She was a little old to be considered a kitten--about four months, Viola had told her earlier--but she was still very tiny, and still very cute. Speaking of cute, watching Viola cuddle with the little furball as she had entered her room was one of the most adorable things she had ever seen the tomboy do--other than her usual habit of rambling on and acting goofy when she was nervous, of course.

Olivia had arrived at the Hastings household only ten minutes prior. Greeted at the door by a hasty Mrs. Hastings, a rather odd occurrence, as she had never known the older woman to be late for any type of social event, the blonde was taken aback, but she ignored the peculiarity, embracing all of her debutante training to ask politely if her boyfriend was in. "Why, I'm not sure I've seen him this morning, my dear--I think he had some meeting for that ludicrous band of his--but he should be home any time," the quirky older woman had responded, managing to bustle even though she wasn't moving. "Viola's just upstairs, dear. Why don't you go and socialize with her while you wait?" With that, the Junior League mother ushered Olivia quickly into the house. She hurried about the foyer, gathering things here and there. "Maybe some of your impeccable manners will make an impression on her. I haven't been able to get a word through to her since her coming out. Will you try your luck, darling? I would stay to supervise--she can be such rude company sometimes--but, oh! I have to go! I'm going to be late for tea with Mrs. Burnstock! Have fun, dear!" And with that, she was out the door before Olivia could even get a word in.

Deciding that it did no good to leave if she was only going to come back, the blonde scaled the stairs in search of the other twin. She found her just inside the cracked door of her room, lounging on her bed, the stereo on--and waltzing around on top of her was a tiny gray kitten, with whom the brunette would occasionally touch noses and nuzzle softly. The Illyrian's quiet laughter alerted her of her presence, and, after jumping a mile out of her skin, Viola leapt to her feet to question the blonde's presence. Olivia then relayed her interaction with Mrs. Hastings and asked about the kitten. Thus, conversation was born.

Olivia smiled, glancing up at the female twin. On the brunette's face was a familiar look of adoration similar to the one that had been on her face earlier as she watched the young feline stretch out between them. It was one of those looks that made her so adorable in the first place, formidably comparable to all those she had unknowingly made several weeks before…

Pushing the thought away, the Illyrian decided to jump the gun on awkwardness and get to talking before Viola realized she was staring at her. Hoping that not too much time had passed during her musing, she decided to run with their current topic: biting.

"Do you share the same obsession?" she asked, raising a brow.

Viola didn't really think before she smirked roguishly at her. "I've been known to nibble on occasion."

At the dilation of the blonde's pupils, accompanied by the shocked visage she'd taken on, and the light flush that rushed to the surface, coloring her cheeks just the slightest shade of pink, the brunette blanched, afraid that she might have freaked her out. After all, that totally almost counted as flirtation-material. Nervous, she couldn't help herself, and the words began to spill out of her mouth like whitewater rapids, a last-ditch effort to save herself. "But Sebastian got the brunt of it though. He was always biting on things--namely me--like all the time. I even had to go to the hospital once because he used to have really sharp canines and we were wrestling in the living room and he bit my arm and they dug in pretty deep, enough to bleed and stuff. I have a scar and everything." She held up her arm and pointed to the scar, before shooting off once again.

"Then there was that one time with the shovel, but that was just once, and it was an accident, and I was only unconscious for a few seconds anyway. Mom was just overreacting. But he bit me a lot more than he hit me. He got me all the time."

While Viola continued to talk about their teeth, the blonde across from her could only listen and giggle. In all honesty, she'd missed all the times 'Sebastian' would ramble when he was nervous. It was saddening, really. That was one of the things that had been so unique about him, one of the personality traits that she had liked the most, even fallen in love with, only to find out that the real Sebastian never babbled at all; he simply shut down or tried to brush it all away like it was nothing. That was very disconcerting for Olivia, and often saddening, but he was a sweet enough guy, so she dealt with it as best as she could and tried not to think about the 'old Sebastian', who she had just begun to really fall for--who wasn't really Sebastian at all.

"Of course, after we got our braces off and stuff, mom made him get them filed, and he wasn't really happy about it, but at least he couldn't tear me apart when we got into arguments and stuff." As that provided her with ample subject matter for her next branch of rambling, she continued, barely pausing to think that it was getting a bit ridiculous to keep talking. "We argued a lot when we were little, you know. Mainly about stupid stuff, like over who got to hug dad first when we went to see him, or whose turn it was to miss Rugrats and take Buddy for a walk. Buddy was our dog. We fought over him too. I wanted to name him Cirrus, you know, after the clouds and stuff, but Seb wanted to name him Stratus, and I kept telling him that stratus clouds were way lame compared to cirrus clouds, 'cause cirrus clouds are like giant waves of ice particles in the sky--we learned that in second grade, from Mrs. Grand--and they're just amazing, but he wouldn't listen.

"Then we were going to name him Nimbus, 'cause we both watched Dragonball, and Nimbus was pretty much the coolest thing ever, but mom said that was no name for a puppy, so we named him Buddy after Air Bud, 'cause he looked pretty much the same--and he even liked vanilla Snack Packs, just like the other Buddy, so…" Finally, time reached a standstill, and the superfluousness of telling the blonde her entire life story caught up with her. Flushing a deep red that could have rivaled the crimson of Olivia's Illyria sweater, the twin faltered, avoiding her eyes. "So, I'm, uh, I'm just going to shut up now."

Olivia smiled. The flush on Viola's face was adorable. "No, it's okay," she assured her. "It was kind of cute…" When the brunette didn't respond, focusing intently on the kitten that the blonde had been petting consistently without her conscious awareness, she decided to try making things a little easier for her. "Sebastian doesn't really talk about your childhood. It's nice to hear about it for once. I mean, I never knew you had a dog, or that you guys had braces…" She offered a light smile.

The soccer champ returned it hesitantly. "Yeah." She began to chuckle. "We looked pretty dorky with them too."

Smiling, the blonde tilted her head to the side, dubious. "It couldn't have been that bad."

Viola shook her head. "No, really, it was pretty hideous. Here, look." With that, she bounded off of her bed and moved to her computer desk, grabbing a framed picture from the back corner. She took her seat again and folded a leg beneath her. A moment before handing the frame to Olivia, she pressed it to her chest, embarrassed. "Promise you won't laugh too much?"

The Illyrian smiled. "I promise."

Taking a breath, Viola reluctantly handed over the only remaining evidence of her dental-disaster. (All else had been made the fuel of their celebratory perfect-teeth bonfire three years prior--luckily, just before they entered high school.)

Olivia accepted the picture, holding the brunette's eyes for a moment to let her know she wasn't planning on making fun of her, before dropping her eyes to the picture--though what she saw did make her want to laugh. It wasn't for the fact that the Hastings twins had braces, but for the fact that they were both sporting them rather humorously, baring their teeth in an almost animalistic way, perhaps growling at the camera, both of them attempting to flex their non-existent preteen muscles. Chuckling, the blonde began to gush over their appearance. "Awh! You guys were so cute! You weren't dorky at all."

Viola scoffed. "Yeah, right. Dad used to make fun of us for it all the time. Seb was metal-mouth and I was brace-face."

Olivia giggled, turning her attention back to the picture. "How old were you guys?" She guessed about twelve or thirteen.

"Well, Seb was thirteen, and I was thirteen-and-two-minutes by then," the brunette responded. "It was our birthday."

"See? There's something else." The blonde looked up from the picture. "I didn't know you were older than him."

"Yeah, well, two minutes' difference never really counted in Seb's opinion."

And there it was. That grin. The grin Olivia had fallen so hard for. The grin that could stop her heart and distract her for hours on end; the grin that stole her breath and filled her thoughts and her dreams; the grin that made her melt inside.

Ever since Viola had come clean and things had gone back to normal, she'd been doing so good about keeping things easy between them. In her opinion, she was doing a damn good job being her friend. Just a friend, without causing awkward tension whenever they were together, without thinking about any of her lingering feelings for the 'old Sebastian'--or so she liked to tell herself. The truth was, even though it was no longer 'Sebastian' grinning at her with that grin--that it had been Viola, in fact, grinning at her with that grin throughout the entirety of those two wonderful weeks--that grin still made her melt, and she didn't care whose name was attached to it. After all, it had only taken her approximately two and a half hours after the Cornwall game to realize that Viola was decidedly the more attractive of the two twins, even as a girl, and that the fluttering-in-her-stomach feeling that she'd grown accustomed to whenever 'he' was around just wasn't there when he was around.

Because she hadn't fallen in love with a name. She'd fallen in love with a person, and that person was Viola.

But, of course, she couldn't just come out and say it like that. Her mother would have had a fit. Sebastian would have run off to think about it, and Viola was infatuated with Duke. She still didn't have any chance at all with her crush, even after it turned out that 'he' was a she. She didn't even want to think about what the twin would say if she ever found out. So, instead, she decided that she would keep her mouth shut and that she would take what she could get, because, sometimes, on the rare occasion, Sebastian would say something that sounded so much like what 'Sebastian' would say, and she would almost get that feeling again. Almost. And although it was really nothing in comparison, almost was the closest she'd ever get.

Looking away from that grin sadly, Olivia turned her eyes down towards the picture once more. She exhaled a soft sigh.

Viola frowned. That wasn't what she had been expecting. They were only talking about braces, for Pete's sake! "Are you okay, Liv?"

The blonde closed her eyes. She loved it when she called her Liv, but it was one of the hardest things to hear just then. A sad moment later, she forced a smile and looked upward, nodding to convince herself as much Viola. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?" The soccer champ dared to place a gentle hand on the blonde's arm.

Olivia was acutely aware of the touch, and the softness she'd grown so accustomed to when she was still a 'he' didn't help her situation any. It only made things harder. "Yeah, just…" She shook her head then, switching topics abruptly. Somehow, she gathered the courage to look into Viola's eyes. "Tell me more. About you guys as kids. Did you ever get Sebastian back for biting you all those times?" She prayed the brunette would just take the bait and forget all about her gargantuan slip-up.

Miraculously, she did, but only after the blonde offered her a smile. She had her suspicions that it was at least ninety-nine percent faked, but she decided to let the other girl off the hook. It was obvious that she didn't want to talk about whatever it was, and the brunette didn't want to push for fear of alienating her. Flashing the blonde a victorious smirk instead, she joked, "Yeah, I taught him a lesson or two. He knows not to mess with me now." Still, Olivia looked mildly upset, and Viola hurried to fix it. "Look, you can even see it in the picture." She leaned forward for a better look at it and pointed to a bruise on the preteen-image-of-Sebastian's arm. "He was whining about it for like a week straight. So much that dad grounded me."

Just as Olivia began to chuckle, she made the mistake of looking up. Viola hadn't yet moved away, still hovering closely to see the picture, and when she raised her eyes, she came face to face with the endless pools of blue-green she dreamt about, only inches away from the most inviting lips she had ever been about to kiss…--but no. She couldn't kiss Viola. Kissing Viola would only cause problems, and she didn't think she would be able to deal with anything worse than the situation she already found herself in. Clearing her throat nervously, hoping that it was at least mildly discreet, she dropped her gaze back to the picture, though admittedly blind to it. A steady flush rose in her cheeks, despite how valiantly she fought against the tide.

Flustered, as the blonde looked ready to jump off of the bed, the brunette moved away hastily. She had just almost kissed Olivia! Not that she didn't want to, of course--which she ordered her brain to silence itself about--but Olivia was happy with Sebastian--the real Sebastian--and she was happy with Duke… right? "Uh, sorry," she muttered, her face a dark red. "I just… sometimes I forget that whole thing about personal space, and, I'm, you know, um… sorry for being all up on you and everything, I guess… Sorry." She cringed at her own stupidity. "I already said that. Sorry. Yeah. Sorry. Uhm…"

Unsurprisingly, Olivia found herself smiling. Viola really was the most adorable thing in the world when she was embarrassed. As she attempted to tell her that it was okay to take some of the pressure off of her, the twin was already set on moving on.

"Yeah, so, um, Seb should be home soon, and mom too, and I'm supposed to call Paul, and um… where did Skye go?"

The blonde blinked. The more Viola had said, the less and less she was wanting to listen, as it was obvious she was trying to end their time together, but the brunette's question effectively threw her off. She had forgotten about Viola's pet, but, even so, she had assumed she would be in the same spot. However, indeed, the tiny gray kitten was no longer curled contentedly between them on the bed. After a quick glance around the room, Olivia determined that the little furball was nowhere to be seen. With a confused look of her own, the Illyrian replied, "I don't know. She must have just left, because I was just petting her…"

Glad for the excuse, the other girl stood from the bed. "We have to make sure she didn't go downstairs," she said. "Mom's afraid she'll get into the plants, and if she does, my ass is grass."

* * *

So, how horrible was it? If anybody liked it, let me know, and I'll think about continuing it. (And don't make fun of the cat's name!)

As an incentive, if I do continue it, look forward to: someone fainting, mouth to mouth resuscitation, enormous confessions, and plenty of awkward tension. If it doesn't sound interesting, well, then I just suck, and I'll have to accept it someday.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, man. You guys totally surprised me. I didn't think anyone even still looked for She's the Man stuff, (other than me, of course), but I'm glad.

Thanks for all your reviews! XD Like, millions and millions of kudos. As long as you keep pushing me forward, I'll keep writing, so don't be stingy!

* * *

"_Are you okay, Liv?"_

Olivia sighed. No, she was not okay. As much as she wished she could say that she was, she wasn't. Falling in love with someone was supposed to be easy, damn it! Falling in love was supposed to make you smile so much your face hurt and give you a heart attack every time you saw your significant other! The pretty blonde princess met her handsome, charming prince and they rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after--wasn't that how it worked?

Apparently, Disney had been lying to her all those years, because that's not how falling in love was at all.

In fact, it was so different that the pretty blonde princess closed her eyes and allowed her head to fall to the wooden floor beneath her, connecting with a solid, satisfactory _thunk. _Parts of it were true, she supposed, because she did smile very often in Viola's presence and it did feel like her heart was going to beat out of her chest every time the other girl smiled--but it was sadly noted that Disney must have left a few things out. Like how there was this gnawing sense of guilt deep within her every time she caught her breath. Like how falling in love sometimes entailed throwing yourself head over heels for girls who dress like their brothers so they can play soccer, and how sometimes it included believing that you could just transfer all of those feelings over to their brothers when, in reality, they were nothing like the girls you fell in love with in the first place.

Considering that, she was fairly certain she was in need of a Fairy Godmother. "Where's Paul when you need him?"

Taking a breath, she attempted to rewind her brain into vacuuming the thoughtless comment back in. It wasn't like it was Paul's fault that she was in love with his best friend. It was Viola's fault, but Olivia's mind had already made it very clear that she couldn't blame her for it. As much as she had wanted to yell and scream at her after she had taken off that wig and came clean, nothing could be done. Maybe it was the sincerity in her words--or maybe in her eyes--or maybe it was just because she was so far in love with her, but she couldn't blame her for it. And, truthfully, sometimes that hurt more than anything.

But she couldn't just lay there forever. Viola would come back sometime and notice her there, her forehead pressed to the ground, knees drawn up like she was about to lose what little lunch she'd eaten, and she desperately did not want the other girl to see her that way. It would only make her ask more questions, and more questions meant more answers, and more answers meant more feelings, and she knew all too well that more feelings were bad to think about whenever Viola was around.

So, with that in mind, the blonde reluctantly picked herself up. "She wasn't down there anyway."

Though, did it really take three and a half minutes to decipher that a kitten wasn't under a bed? Viola had run off to check the stairs and the hallway after they realized that Skye had gone missing, but Olivia simply dropped to her knees and checked for her in the first place she knew _she_ wanted to go: a nice, dark, quiet place to hide away from the world. Although, taking a personal moment, laying there for an extra three minutes and fifteen seconds, was not a part of looking for Viola's kitten; it was a part of trying to keep herself from crawling down there herself and never coming out--which was a really tough thing to do.

Standing, Olivia glanced around the room. There were no obvious hiding spots as far as she could see. Where else would she have gone if she was a kitten? In the hallway, of course. Out the door and far, far away from all the tension. Why not?

As she took the first step, a crash from downstairs launched her into a sprint, and she all but threw herself out of Viola's bedroom and at the second-story railing. Before she could make a sound, the brunette below, whom Olivia could only assume was the cause of the crash, cursed loudly to herself. Hands tight around the polished wood, she leaned out as far as she could in an attempt to see her.

"Vi?" she called, worried. "Are you okay?"

A tight, "For the moment," served as the only response she got. Though, she was certain she also heard, "Until mom kills me, that is…" as well. After a moment, Olivia realized that the crash must have involved one of the plants Viola had rushed to save, as it had sounded an awful lot like some sort of pottery breaking. It seemed as if Ms. Hastings' begonias were simply doomed for destruction, though the blonde wasn't sure it was really the kitten they had to worry about.

And speaking of the kitten--slinking out of one of the many hall closets, Skye peered up at Olivia curiously.

The Illyrian had to smile to herself. Even though she'd been contemplating digging a hole in the ground to hide in for the rest of her life only moments ago, Viola's little mishap and the kitten's easy appearance had managed to completely change her demeanor. Not for the first time, as she leaned back, away from the rail, she envisioned herself at the local clinic picking up an assortment of prescription drugs for her bipolarity. After all, she did literally just launch herself onto a wooden railing that had absolutely no guarantee of supporting one hundred and sixteen pounds, and she had also just began to chuckle. If the combination of those two things didn't secure her instability, well, then, the world just did not know 'crazy' when it saw it.

Taking a step away from the banister, as, even though it might have sounded like a good escape for a second or so, falling to her death probably wouldn't be too much fun, she turned her eyes down to the kitten, who was now winding its way around her ankles. Olivia grinned. She picked up the kitten and playfully mussed its fur. "You're a little trouble-maker," she teased.

As another muffled curse filtered through the floorboards, the blonde shook her head. "Just like someone else I know."

Only a second later, she decided she might as well go see if the troubled brunette downstairs needed any help. "Lets go find her, huh?" she muttered absently to the kitten, and she began to descend the stairs. Aptly dividing attention between her feet and her hands, she ensured a safe passage downward and also a happy kitty. She reached the bottom a moment later, turning towards the little bit of hallway leading to the first of the Hastings' family rooms, where she had assumed the crash had come from. She stopped short when she caught sight of the predicament the love of her life had managed to get herself into.

Standing in the wreckage that was the remaining dirt and pottery of what was once a meticulously groomed plant, one of her hands effectively buried in a second, surprisingly intact, sconce of begonias, the other hand liberally dirtied as well, Viola appeared rather flustered.

Olivia could only chuckle. How in the world had she managed to do such damage?

At the blonde's laughter, Viola finally glanced up. Flushing, she rose to her feet, quicker than she should have, apparently, as she knocked her head on an overhanging ledge, nearly dislodging another vase, and upsetting a few candles. Of course, she just had to make things worse when Olivia was there to see them, didn't she? After taking a moment to calm herself, she let out a heavy exhale as she fixed the candles. Her mind relentlessly ordered her to play it off as no big deal, and, turning to the other girl, she shrugged, trying to make the situation seem less chaotic. "The plant ate my ring," she offered sheepishly.

The Illyrian in the hallway only shook her head, and her grin never faltered. She truly had fallen for the cutest girl on the planet. She began to walk towards the soccer star slowly, giggling. "It _ate_ your ring?" she asked, dubious, raising a single golden brow.

Viola shrugged. Of course the plant had _eaten_ her ring; it didn't just _fall_ in there by itself. "Yeah," she replied. "Bougainvilleas are hungry things, you know."

Olivia grinned at her misconception. "Begonias, Vi," she corrected her, and the brunette appeared a bit confused. With the confusion easy to pick out, as the two were probably very close to the same thing in the other girl's mind, the blonde continued to clear it up for her. "They're begonias, not bougainvilleas."

_Of course _they were begonias. If they weren't, then Viola might have been right about something for once in her life, and that just couldn't happen, could it? Again, the twin shrugged, though her uneasiness had grown increasingly apparent. "Yeah, well, you know me," she said wryly. "I was never much for the whole horticulture part of the Junior League."

The blonde frowned. She could hear the agitation lingering below the other girl's words clearly, and she fought a sigh. Why couldn't things just be simple between them? Because she was in love with her, that's why. So, of course, everything just _had_ to be difficult, or it wouldn't be her life. Oh, yes, her life _had_ been simple once, and she was popular, and smart, and pretty, and there was no need to worry about trying to find a boyfriend, because they all literally threw themselves at her feet anyway--and then she just _happened_ to bump into this incredibly charming boy, who asked about her shoes, and who could tell Anthropology from Aeropostale, who she couldn't help but fall for because he was so different than all the other boys, but, for some reason, he wanted nothing to do with her, and then, come to find out only a week later that, really, he wasn't one of the other boys at all; he was a girl dressed like a boy so she could play soccer, and she was very, very straight.

And so came about the not-so-simple-anymore life of Olivia Lennox.

Taking a breath, the Illyrian tried to figure out a way to fix the situation, and, as she set Skye down on one of the cushioned kitchen chairs, where she sprawled out to nap, Olivia attempted a smile. "Well, even so, I think you might have one up on them," she said. "As far as I know, they weren't aware begonias liked to eat rings." And then Viola was grinning at her and all was right in the world. Olivia cheered silently at her success. Now, if she could only keep it running. "How exactly did it manage to get your ring in the first place?" she asked. She crossed her arms and stared pointedly at her (though biting her lip and raising a brow while awaiting her answer was completely unintentional, and she blamed it on her inner girl's incorrigibly flirty nature).

The brunette noticed the subtle cheekiness, but tried her best to ignore it, focusing on the other girl's question. "Well, I was trying to make sure that _she_"--Viola pointed accusingly at the kitten--"wasn't getting into it, and when I went to move the leaves, it snatched it right off me!" She imitated the swift grabbing motion the plant must have made, grinning. Then, she decided it was only fair for her to have some fun as well, and brandished her dirtiest arm, exaggerating, "I nearly lost my hand!"

Olivia chuckled. "It couldn't have been that bad," she said for the second time that day. She reached to touch the plant's leaves tenderly. "You probably just frightened it." Shaking her head, she lowered herself to her knees, carefully minding the dirt on the floor, and gently separating the lower level stems that burrowed into the soil. Talking about a plant like it was a real person wasn't exactly the weirdest thing she and Viola had been involved in--considering their entire history together--but it was definitely somewhere near the top of the list. However, it didn't bother the blonde. It was only one more thing she got to share with the brunette, and the weirder the better, because that meant that it was really Viola.

A moment later, she realized that said girl had plopped down on the floor next to her and turned to look at her, greeted by a bright smile. Viola was practically beaming. Olivia offered the other girl her own grin, continuing to play in the dirt. Sure, digging into a pot of begonias with her bare hands wasn't very Junior League of her, but as long as her mother didn't know, she decided she was safe. She could only imagine her trying to pin the blame on Viola, and fought rolling her eyes.

Instead, she returned to the task at hand. "See?" she asked the other girl, nodding towards the plant. "It's perfectly fine if you're nice to it." And, after she'd deciphered that the ring was nowhere in the topsoil, she rolled up her sleeve and began to fish around in the lower bits, leaning forward to reach deeper, and sharing a quiet chuckle with the brunette next to her.

And she was just starting to get lost in those mesmerizing eyes, drifting off into those endless pools, thoughts of rings and dirt far from her mind, an involuntary smile just starting to begin--when something pulled her violently from her daydream.

Quickly retracting her arm, she shook it spastically. "Oh, my God, I think I just felt something move in there!"

Dirt had been flung out of the jar at her reaction, but it had missed her for the most part. It did, however still linger on her hand, and the urge to wipe away the lingering slimy sensation that had caused her reaction was powerful, but a moment of thinking and the realization that she'd ruin her favorite pair of anchorblues was stronger. As such, she settled on continuing to shake her hand free of the grossness, an unsettled squirming in her stomach, even as Viola began to chuckle.

The brunette shook her head. "Nah, I'm sure it was just a root or something," she assured the other girl. Though it did, for the most part, look very convincing, the soccer star was sure the blonde was only adding a bit more to their game. Beginning to fish around for herself, as she was already dirty anyway and there was no use in trying to deny it, she made a show of being very gentle as she felt for her ring. She sent the blonde a haughty grin. "Maybe you were too rough--" and the biggest lizard Viola had ever seen in her life crawled its way out of the soil and up her wrist. "AHHH!!"

Olivia screamed as well, if not because of the lizard then because it just felt like the right thing to do at the time.

Freaking out quite a bit more than the Illyrian had, Viola literally flung the slimy creature off of her hand. It sailed out of the potted begonias and into the unknown. She and the blonde beside her backed away from it quickly as it gained its bearings on the floor, both appearing quite horrified. Then, Viola realized that another problem was arising; Skye had woken, and was eyeing the lizard hungrily. Barely able to mutter an "Oh, no," Viola scrambled across the floor in an attempt to catch the kitten, but the feline and the reptile were already skittering off down the hall. "Get her!" she yelled, to no one in particular.

Years of soccer allowed her to catch footing amidst the dirt and she sprinted after the animals, Olivia hot on her tail.

The blonde was slower, but not by much, and she was just closing in on the kitten, quite awkwardly, when Viola, somehow suddenly with an empty jar in her hand--which Olivia expected had lost its innards somewhere along the way--raced past her. They hit a snag between the two of them and the blonde felt herself falling. However, it didn't seem to matter much, as she caught the kitten anyway, wrestling her into her arms, and Viola slammed the jar down on top of the lizard, trapping it.

The Illyrian was just beginning to breathe again when the brunette jumped quickly to her feet.

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "Oh, my God! Ew! I just cut off its tail! Oh, my God! Ew! Ew, ew, ew! It's still moving!"

Olivia laughed breathlessly, watching the brunette dance on the spot with disgust. Such a thing might have seemed out of character for Viola, but the Illyrian had figured out by now that 'the whole dissecting thing' wasn't the only part of biology that freaked her out, and so the entire scene was rather comical. Viola was supposed to be a tomboy, and yet, there she was, cowering away from a lizard--though Olivia would agree that it was a really _big_ lizard. But it was funny. What else she found rather comical was the fact that, sprawled on the ground like she was, she was certain she felt a tear in the knee of her jeans. And so much for not ruining them with dirt either, it seemed, because it was all around them, sooty against her stomach.

The Illyrian pushed herself into a sitting position, still holding tightly to the struggling kitten while Viola tortured herself, hesitantly nudging the jar towards the front door with her foot. It took her nearly a full minute to get it over there, and once she did, she pushed it outside as quickly as she could, whining as she did so, then turning, slamming door, and sliding down in a tired ooze to sit at its base. Olivia chuckled quietly as the kitten in her arms finally managed to get free, racing up the stairs. When Viola finally peeked an eye open, surveying the damage, the Illyrian followed her gaze into the hallway.

She could only agree when Viola muttered, "Mom's gonna kill me."

* * *

And I know there wasn't much Viola/Olivia tension going on right there, but I was writing it out without a plan and the lizard part just seemed funny, so I threw it in. But trust me, the tension is coming, along with lots and lots of close calls. Hopefully. If my brain works it right. As always, thanks for reading, and **clicky the button!**

(In the next chapter, look forward to: uhm… I'm not really sure. Heh. I guess it's a surprise then!)


	3. Chapter 3

So, I know this one is kind of late compared to the first update, but I was gone all weekend, so I didn't have access to the Internet to post it. And, to make up for it, I've tried to make this chapter a little bit longer than the others. (From what I can tell, it's almost a thousand words longer, so... enjoy.) XD

And, I just wanted to say that the response to this has been **phenomenal**! Thanks so much for all your reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. Keep them coming!

* * *

Even without the fifteen years of proper Junior League etiquette and manners drilled into her brain, it was the least Olivia could do to offer her help. She had done her part in making the mess, after all, as she was pretty sure that the second broken sconce of begonias was her fault, so it was only fair. She decided that maybe knocking it over was a good thing, though, because, broken, it was a lot easier to find Viola's ring--which, at its shiny, spotless glory, they discovered must have fallen _behind_ the pot, not _into_ it. However, that was simply how luck went for the two girls, so they only laughed and began to clean up the mess.

Olivia smiled to herself, picking up the larger shards of pottery scattered on the floor. As she had expected, her jeans were ruined--though the rugged, toughened look _was_ kind of appealing, in an odd, I-liked-a-boy-who-was-really-a-girl-so-now-my-mind-is-a-little-warped kind of way--but it was very hard to care when Viola was sitting next to her, both of her hands blackened by soil, along with nearly an entire arm, a dusting of dirt along her jaw and smeared across her forehead were she'd attempted to eradicate an itch without scratching it, pouting, and generally looking far too cute for her own good. (Not that Olivia minded, of course; but, it made it just that much harder for her to concentrate on cleaning up the mess they made.)

Despite the fun she was having watching Viola relive her sandbox days, however, the silence was starting to get to her.

"So, how are you going to explain two missing bushels of begonias to your mom?" the Illyrian asked, raising an expectant brow. She'd been wondering about it ever since she'd taken a good look at the chaos the hall had suffered. Though she seemed like a sweet lady, Ms. Hastings was very nearly medieval-torture when it came to punishment--especially if her impeccably well-kept house was involved--and the blonde was genuinely excited to hear whatever ludicrous tale the twin might come up with to avoid the torment. Luckily, she could tell just by the mischievous smirk curling Viola's lip that she didn't plan on disappointing her.

"Oh, you know, something simple," the brunette said, shrugging it off and picking up another piece of the broken pottery. "Something natural, like, 'I swear, mom, I heard it on the news and everything. Begonias'--" She paused. "Did I get it right? Begonias?" Olivia nodded, giggling, and the twin continued without missing a beat. "'Begonias _cause __**cancer**_. No, really. Swear on my life, mom.'" Suddenly, she took on a serious tone. "'And I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay, 'cause…'"--she appeared to tear up--"'cause I don't know what I would do if… if…'"--then she shrugged--"and then I'll just start bawling my eyes out and all will be forgiven." She smiled brightly at the other girl, shrugging again at the slow, incredulous grin she received in return.

"She'll take it, trust me," she assured the blonde. "And I bet you she'll never buy begonias again in her life."

Olivia chuckled. Sadly enough, she had so much faith in Ms. Hastings' gullibility that she was sure Viola could pull it off.

"Uhm… thanks again for helping me though," the brunette continued quietly after a moment. She chanced a sideways glance and a brief grin.

The Illyrian smiled. "No problem," she said, and then she began to laugh. "Besides, after standing up to that lizard, you deserve a break."

Shuddering, Viola tried to shake away the lingering feeling of it crawling up her wrist. "God, that thing was so gross."

"I told you I felt something move," the blonde said.

"I thought you were just playing around!" the brunette replied.

"Trust me, I'm nowhere near as great of an actor as you are."

Viola scoffed. "Are you kidding? Nobody's as great of an actor as I am."

Olivia grinned. "I wouldn't disagree with that."

"I mean, I lasted a solid two weeks as--"

And they both reached for the last remaining piece of pottery on the floor, only to find the others' hand.

Blue eyes rose to lock with a sea of cornflower and seafoam, and as a deep flush rushed to the surface, coloring both of the girls' faces, they pulled back their hands and dropped their gazes. Their simultaneously muttered apologies broke the anxious silence that had befallen them, but the air between them was heavy for a long moment afterward as Viola stared hard at one of the tiny black diamonds between the larger quartzite tiles beneath her and Olivia kept her eyes glued to the hole in her jeans.

Despite knowing that absolutely _perfect_ awkward moments like that one could only play out in movies, they ran with it.

Viola coughed rather indiscreetly. "Uhm… I mean, two whole weeks in Illyria is a tough job when you're not, you know, _you_." She hurried to pick up the last ceramic shard on the floor. "And the whole dorm thing isn't very fun either when--" and her words were cut off with a sharp hiss of pain as the edge of one of the bigger pieces of broken pottery tore into her finger. Resisting the urge to curse, she pulled back and shook her hand, gritting her teeth, as many people do when they're attempting to stifle their discomfort (though it never _really_ works). She cast the heap of pottery in her hand a dangerous glare, and, being the type of girl whose first instinct with a hand wound was always to suck the blood away, raised her finger to her mouth--completely forgetting about the dirt that still resided there--and she ended up with a decent amount of soil in her mouth.

Olivia could only laugh when the other girl began spitting it out angrily.

"Great job, Vi," the brunette commended herself, annoyed. "Let's eat some dirt." She hastily expelled more of it from her mouth, and, glancing at her finger, from which more blood had started to seep, she shook her head. "Perfect." Of course, she _had_ to injure herself. With a pile of something broken and dangerous in her hand, it was the only Viola thing to do--but why? Why couldn't she have been alone for it? Why was it that she always managed to make herself look like the biggest loser in the universe whenever _Olivia_ was around? Was that God's idea of a joke, or some kind of justified irony gone awry? If it was part of the first, she didn't find it very funny, and as for the last, well, she probably deserved it--but she still didn't like it.

Seriously, couldn't a girl catch a break? Just for a little bit? Fifteen friggin' minutes?

Apparently not, because the blood had moved on to oozing steadily from her finger. Sounding her frustration, she jumped to her feet, nearly chucking the pieces of her mother's vase at the garbage can. It seemed she was destined for failure.

As the brunette crossed the hall and moved into the kitchen to work agitatedly at the sink, Olivia pushed herself from the floor. It was mean of her to laugh at the other girl, but she couldn't help it; Viola really did have the worse luck when it came to accidents. Tossing her own pile of pottery into the garbage, much nicer than the other girl had, she joined the brunette at the sink, ceasing her vicious scrubbing activity with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Let me help you," she commanded softly.

Surprised by the honest concern and affection in those soft baby blue depths when they caught her eye, Viola stilled.

Olivia smiled. It appeared that all the frustration had drained right out of the other girl, and she was glad, because it allowed her to wash the dirt away much less violently. She couldn't help but cringe at Viola's nearly gutted finger, but she did her best to keep it as clean as possible until she could find some sort of antibacterial cream for it. As the last traces of the dirt swirled down the drain, from Viola's arms and her own, the blonde turned her gaze upward to find a pair of blue-green eyes focused intently on her face, and her heart jumped in her chest, her stomach filling with butterflies. The urge to ask why she was staring so intensely at her was almost too strong to ignore, but she did, miraculously, deciding that the moment would probably be broken if she didn't keep her mouth shut.

Instead, she pulled a hand towel from beside the sink and offered it to the brunette. "I'll go find a band-aid," she said, and, feeling bold under the pressure of the butterflies, she began to back away with a small smile. "Stay there." Just as she began to turn around, hoping to avoid anything that might jump out behind her and cause an accident of her own, she remembered one of the brunette's less favorable habits and halted, taking on a sterner tone and pointing an authoritative finger at the other girl. "And don't play with it!"

At the brunette's surprised expression, Olivia turned and grinned. She'd learned early on that Viola had a habit of agitating her injuries. It was strange at first, watching her poke at bruises and study cuts and scrapes in the middle of Biology after a rough soccer practice the day before, but she got used to it, and eventually learned to reprimand her for it--though she'd _still_ yet to figure out how the brunette could cut herself open and poke at her nerves without batting an eyelash, but dissecting things made her faint. She forgot about it for the time being, however, and resumed her mission to find medicine for the latest impairment.

Scaling the stairs, she couldn't help but think back on those first two weeks at Illyria.

'Sebastian' had been the cutest boy she'd ever seen, and getting to know him only made him that much cuter. True, there were times when she suspected that there was something different, maybe even a little strange, about him, because any boy who could tell her that taupe went better with teal than with blue was suspicious, but she hadn't cared. At the time, she hadn't even thought anything of it. Then, when 'he' told her that she wasn't 'his' type, it hurt, but when she got to thinking about it, the answer as to why had been obvious. He commented her on her shoes more than once, he pegged the labels of her clothing dead on, and he had Barbie Girl as his ringtone; he was _gay!_ But sadly, no, he wasn't, and that was what actually hurt her: that he was straight and still didn't want her.

Even so, she threw herself shamelessly at him. 'I'm working at the kissing booth,' she'd said. 'Come see me?' And who came instead? Duke. And that's when _she_ showed up. Standing behind her with the same ready, disarming grin, the same brilliant blue-green eyes, the same awkward manner and goofy facial expressions--and Olivia didn't even think to connect two and two.

The blonde sighed, pushing open the door to the bathroom upstairs. There were so many things that told her she should have seen it all coming, but she hadn't paid attention to them. In her mind, 'Sebastian' was perfect; he wouldn't have been involved with anything as crazy as the truth.

And, months later, she still had the urge to smack herself for her naïveté.

But that would do no good. She'd only return to the kitchen with a red face, and Viola would question the _smack_ she heard come from upstairs, and she'd want an honest answer, and Olivia couldn't really tell her. What she wanted to say was, 'Well, you see, I'm in love with you, but you're not available, because you're straight, and you're dating this guy--who is a _horrible_ match for you, by the way--and I'm dating your brother, the guy I thought I fell for in the first place, but he's really not and I don't want him, because I want you, because you are that person, and you are the most amazing girl I've ever met'--but she knew without a doubt that she wouldn't let that happen. She'd rather cut out her tongue than get all that drama started.

With that in mind, she snatched a bottle of peroxide, a tube of Neosporin, and a band-aid out of the hidden cabinet behind the mirror and exited the bathroom. There was no use in thinking about things like that anyway; they would only upset her.

So, instead, she brought her thoughts back to the deep intensity in her favorite blue-green eyes only moments ago.

Thinking of that reminded her why she had gone upstairs in the first place, and she shook her head, grinning. She had told the other girl not to play with her finger, but knowing Viola, she was probably halfway through counting the layers of skin in her hand until she met bone. As the blonde rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of her, she realized that she wasn't very far off. The brunette stood much like she had left her, leaning back against the counter by the sink, but her eyes were drawn to her hand, studying her finger intently, the other hand raised to do God knows what to it.

Olivia shook her head and strode into the kitchen, smacking the soccer star's arm lightly. "I told you not to play with it," she reprimanded her. Fixing the brunette with a humorous glare, she set her impromptu first-aid kit down on the counter.

Viola shrugged, making a show of rubbing her arm where the other girl had hit her. "I couldn't help it," she muttered.

Try as she might, the blonde couldn't fight her grin at the brunette's childish nature. Shaking her head, she picked up the bottle of peroxide and waved it threateningly at her. "This is going to burn if you've infected it," she warned her, and began to laugh when the tomboy cringed, pulling her hand in against her chest in an attempt save it from the torture to come. The Illyrian rolled her eyes and reached gently for her hand. "You'll be fine," she promised. Unscrewing the cap from the bottle, she poured a decent amount into it and turned to catch Viola's eyes, which were dark with apprehension. "Ready?"

The brunette pinched her eyes shut and turned away. "Just do it."

'Drama queen,' begged to slip past Olivia's lips, but she kept her mouth shut. Turning back to the task at hand, she poured the peroxide over the brunette's finger, wincing when it began to bubble, as it meant that it was infected and, indeed, burning. Her frown deepened when the heel of the soccer star's shoe met the ground with a solid, abrupt thud, and she tapped her toes rapidly, clenching her teeth. "It's all that dirt," the Illyrian said quietly, capping the peroxide again. "You probably got some in there just because it was on the piece you cut yourself with." She picked up the Neosporin, turning back to the other girl.

"Stupid plant," the brunette muttered, and she pulled her hand back to shake it free of the remaining peroxide.

Olivia found herself grinning as she grabbed the other girl's hand once more. "Hold still," she commanded.

Viola reluctantly did as she was told, eyeing the Neosporin warily. "Will this hurt too?"

The blonde shook her head. "No, I think you learned your lesson with the peroxide," she joked.

Exhaling a relieved breath, the soccer star slumped back against the counter. "Thank God."

The Illyrian grinned, taking a step forward to close the gap between them so she could work more efficiently, and she began to apply the Neosporin to the brunette's finger. Though she was busy, and trying very hard not to think about it, she didn't fail to notice their close proximity.

Viola noticed it as well. She hadn't realized that leaning back would make the other girl step forward, but, then again, she hadn't really thought about it at all, too focused on the fact that her finger was on fire to care. Though there must have been about a foot between them still, the other girl felt _very_ close, and the brunette held her breath. She forgot all about her wounded finger and her pain, and she exhaled only when it was safe, when the blonde moved to get the band-aid ready. Not long after, she found herself drifting off, staring intently at the other girl's face.

She'd noticed from the very first day she'd met Olivia, bumping into her outside of Headmaster Gold's office, that she was beautiful. Blonde hair, crystal clear blue eyes and a cute little smile, she was every boy's dream girl--but Viola had learned day by day that her smile was only a glamour. Truthfully, it hadn't even taken a full day, because, only hours after she first met her, sitting in the cafeteria with the boys, looking over at her as she sat with her friend, she began to see just how sad Olivia was. There was a sorrow in that beauty, a dejected tolerance. She knew she was beautiful, and she knew what boys thought of her--and perhaps the latter was where the sadness came from: the fact that boys only saw her and wanted her for the way she looked.

It could have been simply because she'd just gotten out of a bad relationship, but Viola was sure that it was more than that, and it became more and more apparent that she was right each day she'd spent as 'Sebastian'. Of course the other girl smiled, and of course she laughed, and of course she promised that she was okay, but Olivia wasn't very good at hiding her pain. Each day spent across from her in Biology only revealed another layer of that sadness, and Viola found herself staring more and more. She learned quickly that the more she looked, the more pain she saw in those soft blue eyes, the harder it was to look away.

Even then, months after her whole drag-king fiasco, even though she smiled and laughed, Olivia still looked so sad…

"There," the blonde said, breaking the other girl from her reverie. "All better."

Viola blinked, surprised. Lost in her thoughts, she'd missed the entire band-aid-applying process. Bringing herself back to the present, she shook her mind free of the past, and found herself faced with sparkling cerulean eyes and a familiar smile. She smiled in return, as she was always helpless to do so in the other girl's presence, she realized, but a moment later, as the blonde moved to throw away the band-aid's wrapper, she discovered that her own smile had regressed into a pout--though she hadn't the slightest idea why. Similarly, she couldn't have told you why she suddenly asked, "You're not going to kiss my boo-boo?"

Olivia paused after dropping the crumpled paper into the garbage can, raising a single golden brow.

Deciding that running with it would save her the embarrassment of admitting she had no idea what she was talking about, the brunette attempted to persuade the blonde into doing what she asked. "I stood up to the lizard, remember?" she said, and she held up her injured finger again. "Reward me."

The Illyrian began to laugh at that, but shook her head and stepped forward to do so. (If there were several other ways she could think of to 'reward' the brunette, then she blamed it on her hormones.) "Alright, alright," she said, chuckling, though she was mentally preparing herself. "You big baby."

She reached for the other girl's hand and had just bent to kiss her silly little Wall-E band-aid when the other girl spoke.

"Your big baby," the brunette muttered.

Though it was quiet, Olivia heard it easily, and she paused, her lips still pressed to Viola's finger. It came as no surprise to her that she liked the way having the brunette as her 'baby' sounded--but where on Earth had it come from? That definitely wasn't the response she'd been expecting when she teased her about having her 'boo-boo' kissed. However, she didn't fool herself into reading too deep into the brunette's words, because getting her hopes up for something when Viola was involved was something she promised herself she wouldn't do anymore. She had to accept that they'd never be together, and so she simply collected herself and took a slow step away from the other girl.

Viola, for her part, had grown rather pale, and she inwardly cursed her stupidity. "Uhm…" It was just too easy to make a fool of herself, wasn't it? Natural. Effortless, really. But before she could start violently beating herself over the head with the rolling pin on the counter behind her, she found herself speaking again--and prayed that it wasn't something as stupid as what she'd said only moments before. "Would you believe me if I told you I meant to say '_you're_ a big baby'?" she asked.

A silent voice told her that the answer was going to be a big, fat 'no', and, as she suspected, the blonde before her didn't deny it.

Viola nodded, stiff with embarrassment. "Right." So agitated with herself that she was debating climbing the walls to get away from the other girl, the brunette searched rapidly for an escape. A glance into the hall provided her with one: dirt. There was still dirt all over the floor in the hallway that needed to be picked up. "Uhm, yeah." And she brushed past the other girl, nearly spastic, in a rush to exit the kitchen. "Mom should be home soon," she said, her voice echoing down the hall as she moved farther away. "If this isn't clean, I'm dead."

Letting herself fall forward to lean against the counter in the other girl's absence, Olivia sighed.

Why couldn't things just be easy?

* * *

And I've already got the next chapter planned out, so, hopefully, it'll be up within the next day or two. Hopefully.

Reviews would help motivate me though... (wink wink)


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